


The family business

by fandompocalypse



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-12
Updated: 2017-06-13
Packaged: 2018-03-04 07:16:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2964398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandompocalypse/pseuds/fandompocalypse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Author's note at end of chapter</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Author's note at end of chapter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, so I wrote this fanfiction around 4 years ago and I am aware it's shitty, however I had originally posted it and I feel obligated to finish posting the at least slightly better version. Also, it's very dark and mentions self-harm/suicide so do not read if that will bother you. Okay that is all, carry on.

"Room service." I would never get used to these fancy hotels. It had been four years since Dad died, four years since I started living like this and I still wasn't used to it. Oh well. I opened the door to find a very hot, built, blonde with striking green eyes. Unfortunately he definitely wasn't room service. They always have towels, food, etc. and only come when asked. Blondie was empty handed and I hadn't asked for room service. Regardless, he definitely wanted to talk about something so I let him in.

"Who are you?" I asked once I had shut my door.

"Didn't I just tell you?" Blondie needed to work on his disguises.

"Either you are an idiot or you think I am, because there is no way in hell you are room service." I countered, rolling my eyes.

"Caught me red handed." He said, holding up his hands as if to prove how red they were. "My name is Dean." he added as an after thought.

"Can I call you Blondie?" I asked, trying to push his buttons.

"No my name is Dean. Although some people call me squirrel." Dean replied calmly.

"OK Dean why are you in my room? Isn't that a bit pediphilish?" I was trying to back him into a corner, make him say things he didn't want to.

"As you let me in, I'm going to have to say no. It's not my fault you let me into this very nice room." I could hear the swagger in his voice. He wasn't off track yet.

"Why are you here then Blondie?" I asked. Dean suddenly became super serious.

"I need you to come with me. I'm assuming all of your things are packed as there aren't any personal items around the room." I laughed at that. Blondie was observant.

"No." I replied as I collapsed onto my bed.

"Excuse me?" He was flustered.

"Yes all my things are packed, but I'm not going." It took a lot of self control not to burst out laughing at the expression on his face.

"Too bad." I put my headphones and relaxed, making it very obvious I wasn't going anywhere any time soon. Then a cloth covered my face and I blacked out.

When I woke up, I was in a small motel room with two beds. There was various items strewn everywhere, too many to just be Dean's. Before I could figure anything about the other guy, Dean walked out of the bathroom, drying his face off with a towel.

"Oh, you're up." Dean seemed a little surprised.

"No, I'm just laying here looking around and talking because I decided to take a nap." Sarcasm oozed from my voice. "So where is my suitcase?" determined to have a little fun.

"In your hotel room."

"No it's not"

"Why do you say that?"

"You wouldn't have asked me if my stuff was packed if you planned to leave it at the hotel." He sighed and pointed under the bed I was laying on. I slid my suitcase out, grabbed out my i-pod, and played some AC-DC without headphones. If Dean wants to hold me hostage, he is listening to my music. Unfortunately, he seemed to like the music. Oh well, you can't have everything in life. Dean busied himself cleaning up, but he didn't seem to know what to do with the stuff his roommate left behind. He ended up piling it in a corner. When Dean was finished, he offered to get some food while checking the fridge for edible food. I shrugged my shoulders and looked around the now clean room.

"Well, unless you want rabbit food, we're gonna have to grab something from a diner." he continued.

"Fine with me." I told him. Believe it or not, I was used to living like this. My dad moved from motel to motel, never staying anywhere long, disappearing for a couple weeks then coming back to move my sister and I to a different motel. Blondie seemed surprised at my nonchalant reaction.

Before I got the chance to walk outside, Dean grabs my arm to catch my full attention. "Not a word to anyone. I am trying to save your ass, so I'd appreciate it if you keep your mouth shut so I don't have to fight the feds again." He walked out the door and I followed. I unconsciously whistled at the sight of his beautiful car.

"Ahh, I see you appreciate baby." He grinned.

"I'd have to be blind not to. '67 Impala?" The easy banter that passed between us surprised me.

"You know cars pretty well." Dean replied, impressed.

"My dad gave me a love for cars. When he wasn't too busy he would show me how to fix them. I can take apart an engine and put it back together with my eyes closed." I told him as I climbed into his car.

"How old are you?" I rolled my eyes. He obviously didn't bother doing any actual research.

"I'm 16. And if you think I'm a little young to know all of this, I have way too much spare time as neither of my parents are ever around. Granted Dad is dead..." I ended awkwardly. The rest of the ride was in semi-silence (Blondie put on some music, and before I could say anything he told me "Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts their cakehole.")

The diner was all too familiar, and brought on a onslaught of memories. I can't remember what it's called, but I have this thing where memories randomly surface, and I can't do anything until they are done. Flashbacks! That's it. This one must have been really long, as when I finally snapped out of it, I was in a booth, and Dean was sitting across from me with a concerned look on his face. I knew what was coming next and I wasn't looking forward to it.

"Why were you just standing there." He asked after a awkward pause.

"I have flashbacks, and apparently bright neon diner signs are a trigger." I didn't want to talk, but I felt he needed an answer.

"Are you okay?" Why did he have to ask that question? I hated that question. Everyone always asks me if I am okay and I always have to lie to them.

"Yeah I'm fine." I reply.

"Is that a 'I don't want to talk' I'm fine or are you really okay?" He was good, people didn't usually pick up on that.

"I'm as good as I'll ever be." I said, shooting him a genuine smile. Dean then gets a really weird expression on his face.

"What were you remembering?" And his expression was explained. I didn't want to talk, but then again I did. I ended up looking down at my hands. After a few awkward moments, he followed with "I'm sorry, that was really personal. You don't have to answer."

"No, it's okay." I replied, taking a deep breath before beginning. "I had a flashback to the time my brother took me out to a diner very similar to this one. It was the last time I saw him before he bled out in my arms." I managed to choke out the last words without crying. I still felt guilty, as it was my fault he died.

"How old were you?" I was grateful he left out the "I'm so sorry" everyone responds with, even though they know it only makes it worse, and makes everything they say afterward sound fake.

"I was ten. I used to live just like this, moving from motel to motel, eating at diners, not really having a home, until my dad died when I was twelve and my other brother and I were shipped off to my mother." I spat out the last word. She may be my biological mother, but the strangers I meet in the street were better parents to me than she is. Another flashback threatened to engulf me, but I forced it down, locked it in a mental cell and threw away the key.

"That sucks."

"Ya, but I only have two more years till I move out, and I can't wait." I don't know why I was telling Dean all of this.

"Why do you want to move out so bad? You get to go on fancy vacations, stay in fancy hotels, relax, and when you want to go home you have a home and family to go home to. That's my dream life."

"At what price?" I asked him in response.

"What?"

"What price would you be willing to pay to have all that? My mom is the only family I have left, and she ships me off on these so called vacations so she doesn't have to look at my face and be reminded of how much she misses my brothers. I'm at 'home' for two days before I'm forced to go somewhere else, I only come back when I call my mom to tell her I want to come 'home', and all of my possessions fit in a small suitcase and carry on. My mom tells me every time she sees me that I'm not worth the effort, and that she feels absolutely no love for me." I watched as Dean's face became more and more unreadable. He didn't seem to know what to say. The awkward silence was broken by the waitress bringing us our food.

"Did you order for me?"

"Yeah. I wasn't sure what you liked, so I ordered a burger with fries, and all the toppings on the side." I smiled at his thoughtfulness.

"Thanks! I'm not a picky eater, you could have ordered anything and I would have eaten it. Especially since I'm starving." We exchanged small talk and lots of laughs while digging into our burgers.


	2. Chapter 2

I excused myself to to go to the restroom, though relieving myself wasn't what I had in mind. I quickly checked my pocket to make sure my pocket knife was still in my pocket, and thankfully, it was. Although I didn't actually have to go to the bathroom, I went into the nearest stall and locked it. When I looked at the scars on my hips I winced. They had all healed, as it had been months since the last time I cut. I pushed those thoughts out of my head, as they would only cause tears, which weren't as easy to conceal as some lines on my hip. Once I was done, I quickly fled from the restroom, as I if I thought someone had been watching me the whole time, making sure my face showed no sign of what I had just done to myself. Even though I had shared a lot of personal things with Dean, I was NOT ready to share this with him, and I wasn't sure if I ever would be. I walked up to the table right as Dean finished paying the bill. "You ready?" he asked me, and I nodded, not trusting myself to talk without giving something away. We drove back to the motel room, listening to AC-DC blaring from his amazing speakers.

As soon as I was inside the room, I threw myself on the bed and closed my eyes. Today had worn me out. I was hovering on the edge of sleep when there was a knock on the door. Dean got up and looked through the peep hole. He must have recognized the unknown figure outside, because he slipped through the door, making sure it was properly shut behind him. Unfortunately for everyone, the motel walls were very thin. I didn't want to hear what they were saying, but I couldn't help it.

What I could hear of the conversation was a little disorienting. The figure outside was Dean's partner, and I think his brother, and he was talking about some sort of job he had just finished. There was a short pause when Sam, the name of the figure outside, asked to come in. I quickly feigned sleep, and not a second too soon. The door opened, then shut a few seconds later. I expected to hear them continuing their conversation while sitting at the table, but apparently they were still outside. From the little bits and pieces I could hear, I gathered that Sam was a little, actually a lot confused about why there was a teenage girl in his bed. I had to force down a laugh when he asked if it was Dean's prostitute of the night. I heard laughter, and then found out that Dean had so rudely kidnapped me because he was saving me from something that hunts hunters. That made no sense. I didn't hunt, unless he meant... No it couldn't be. I pushed the thought out of my mind and soon fell into a deep sleep, listening to Sam's quiet snores.

When I woke up, I didn't recognize my surroundings, and it definitely wasn't Dean sitting on the edge of my bed. I panicked and pulled myself into the corner of the bed very quickly. The stranger seemed to understand my fear. "Hey it's okay, I'm not going to hurt you. I won't hurt you. I'm Dean's brother, Sam. You're in his motel room. Nobody is going to hurt you." Sam held his hands up to show there was nothing in them.

I slowly calmed down and sat still. I felt bad for freaking out. "I'm sorry. I have panic attacks occasionally, well actually pretty frequently, as they happen every time I wake up in a relatively new place. I guess it comes from not having a home." I wasn't sure why I was telling him this.

"Wait, you don't have a home?" Sam seemed really surprised.

"Technically yes, but my mom doesn't want to deal with me. She sends me on vacations, and I call her when I want to come 'home'. I only stay at her house for around two days before she ships me off to who knows where. Even when my dad was alive I didn't have a home. We moved from motel to motel." Once I had finished, I was really embarrassed. For some reason, I wanted Sam to like me.

"You just described my childhood in a nutshell. Well, not the vacations, but the moving from motel to motel, not having a home, that's how I grew up." I looked up and smiled. He seemed like a really nice guy.

"So, where's Dean?" I was really curious, but I had waited so I wouldn't make Sam feel bad.

"Dean is grabbing us some breakfast. He should be back any minute." Sure enough, Dean stumbled in the door a few seconds later.

"Hope you like pancakes and bacon." Dean said as he set the food down on the table.

"Sounds amazing." I remarked as I sat down. We talked as we ate, sharing stories, skirting around anything painful or important.

Afterwards, I excused myself to add some new lines to the old on my hip. When I came back out, Sam and Dean were outside talking. I flopped onto my bed and turned on some music. I was about to fall asleep when they came back inside. I'm not sure what they were talking about, but neither of them seemed very happy about how it ended. Before I could ask anything, Dean came over and we started talking about a lot of trivial things like favorite foods and what genre of music we listen to. After about half an hour of bonding time, Dean asked suddenly "How did your brother die?" I wasn't ready for a reminder, and had to take a couple of minutes to wrest control of my body from the flashbacks trying to shove their way to the surface. I must have looked angry, as he quickly added "I shouldn't have asked, that was really nosy."

"Suicide." I shoved the flashbacks back into the cell where they belong.

"What?"

"You asked how my brother died. Suicide." I took a deep breath, steeling myself for the conversation that was sure to come. Before I could think better of it, I added "It was my fault."

"We both know that's complete and utter bullshit." I looked up, surprised at his reaction. Usually people tell me they are sorry and move on, or have me talk about the good memories. I've never had someone react like Dean did.

"You may think so, but I know better." I replied, looking at my feet, the lamp, the ceiling fan, anything but Dean.

"I'm listening." He tells me, turning his ear toward me.

"Huh?" I stare at him, confused.

"You said you know better. Enlighten me." Dean replied, leaning back to get more comfortable. I shot him a glare, but he waited patiently for me to tell him. I sighed and began.

"For as long as I can remember, at least while he was alive, my brother, Cas, and I would play a game. He would promise me all these wonderful things, and if I told him I loved him, he would give them to me. But, if I told him I loved him, I would lose the game. I was a very competitive girl, so I never did.

"The night before he died, he took me to a diner almost exactly like the one you took me to. We were having so much fun, and he was making me laugh whenever he could. I hated moving from motel to motel, never being able to go out and do something with my life, and I honestly think he was the only thing keeping me from running away.

"Suddenly, he stopped laughing and looked me dead in the eyes. He promised to take me away to a house we could share, with a school close, lots of nice neighbors, and a yard with a fence when he turned 18 the next day, I just had to tell him I loved him. Being my best friend as well as my brother, he knew how much I wanted to stay in one place, live an apple pie life. I didn't think he was serious, so I stayed silent and looked away.

"After a few minutes of very awkward silence, he sighed and walked to the car, leaving the money on the table. The ride home was in semi-silence, with only the radio to keep things light. He walked me to the room I shared with my other brother, Gabe, before leaving for the room he shared with Dad. The next morning, I woke to the sound of gunshot. I ran as fast as I could to Cas's room while dialing 911. I opened the door with the spare key Dad had given me, and collapsed when I saw him on the ground surrounded by blood coming from a wound in his chest. I quickly realized he was still breathing and ran to him, holding his head in my arms. He looked at me and weakly said 'I'm sorry' as if even that was too much. I shook my head and told him over and over that I loved him, he couldn't leave me, he had nothing to be sorry for. His face lit up, but by the time the ambulance got there, it was too late. I was 10." I hadn't realized I was crying until I stopped and felt the cool, wet, streak of tears falling from my chin to the bed.

Dean didn't seem to know what to say, so he wrapped me in his arms instead, making a comforting shhing sound. We stayed like that until I cried myself out, and had no more tears to shed. It had taken a while, as I kept seeing images of Cas. Of us sitting in the diner, the light glinting off of his jet black hair, his deep blue eyes twinkling, mouth open wide in a smile. Of him ordering, giving the waitress his full attention and making her blush. Of holding him in my arms, the sunlight pouring through the window turning his hair a light brown, his beautiful twinkling blue eyes you could fall into glassed over, my favorite light green shirt of his stiff with blood, my tears falling on his cheek giving it a polished look, his stiff hand still clutching my arm, the ghost of his last smile still on his lips. I tried to stand up, but the world kept spinning, determined to throw me to the ground. After a few minutes of struggle, it won.

I blacked out for who knows how long, waking to a very concerned Dean mere feet from my face. Although I knew who it was, waking up like that is scary, and I jumped about a mile into the air, throwing Dean off balance into the nightstand.

"Are you okay? You stopped crying and just fell over. You've been out for almost 10 hours" Dean asked, rushing the words out of his mouth as if he didn't say them quickly he wouldn't be able to say them at all.

"I'm fine, just got a little dizzy." I replied, standing up and promptly falling back on the bed. Dean attempted to help me stand up again, but I waved him off and walked to the fridge to get some water. I was sure some tiny pyromaniacs were living in my throat it was so dry.

"You wanna watch a movie?" Sam asked, popping his head out of the bathroom, hair still dripping from his shower.

"Sounds like fun. There should be a copy of Captain America in my bag if you two are okay with watching it." I replied, feeling much better after three glasses of water.

"Fine with me." Sam and Dean answered at the same time. Sam set to work on getting the old unreliable DVD player to work while Dean made popcorn and I curled up on the couch. Finally, Dean managed to not burn the popcorn and we all relaxed on the couch, ready to watch an amazing movie. I fell asleep with my head on Sam's shoulder. They must have moved me, because I woke up, in bed, to the smell of eggs being scrambled. Of course, that caused a flash back to the day Gabe made me scrambled eggs before leaving to move in with our mom, which led to a quick image of him lying on the ground, not breathing, marks left on his neck from his handmade rope necklace.

I screamed unconsciously, and heard Sam and Dean's feet thundering closer as they ran to check up on me. When they turned the corner, I was hugging my legs, and rocking back and forth, whispering "It's okay, no one's dead. Everyone is fine. No one is dying, calm down." to myself.

They must have thought I had seen Cas, because Dean returned to making eggs and Sam came over to calm me down, sitting next to me. He grabbed my face to make sure I was listening and said "It's just a nightmare, Ruby. Everyone is okay, Cas is okay. Nobody is hurt." That calmed me down a little, at least enough to stop muttering and rocking. This happened to me a lot, but it usually took a couple of hours to calm myself down, where as Sam had done it in a couple of minutes.

I walked over to the couch and curled up in the smallest ball possible. Sam came over with a bunch of movies in his hand and asked, "We are watching a movie. Do you wanna watch Rent, Grease, Beautiful Girls or Ghostbusters?" I pointed at one at random, and he started trying to get the crappy DVD player to work again. The smell of burning eggs wafted into the room.

"The eggs!" I jumped up and ran over to the stove and put the blackened eggs onto a plate. On my way back I accidentally slammed my hip into the corner of the table. I yelled out and collapsed into the fetal position. The table had hit right where my scars were, and if the pain was anything to judge off of, it had ripped off the scabs too.

"Dammit." I said, not really shouting, but not in my regular voice either. Sam came over and motioned for me to let him see. I shook my head, while I was grimacing.

"You're bleeding, now let me look at it." I looked down, and sure enough, the blood had started to seep through my jeans. "I've stitched up bullet wounds, I think I can handle whatever it is."

I still didn't want him to see, but I didn't see a way out of it. I hopped up onto the table and pulled the side of my jeans down just enough to show him where the table had pulled the scabs off of my scars. Even though there was blood oozing from the wound and dripping down my side, the cuts were too straight to be made by anything but a knife or razor.

"Oh my god." Sam seemed not to realize he had said anything. Dean chose that moment to walk out of the bathroom."

"Did you guys smell burning eg- What are you doing?!?" It must have looked really weird from someone else's perspective; me sitting on the table with the side of my pants pulled down and Sam inspecting my hip.

"Dean come look at this." Sam beckoned Dean over. Dean was wary, but came anyways.

The first thing out of his mouth after he saw the cuts I had given myself was "Oh Ruby."

The compassion in his voice was the thing that pushed me over the edge. I had an emotional breakdown. Sam wrapped me in a hug and I made a decent sized wet mark on the front of his plaid shirt. Dean started making popcorn, and we sat on the couch and watched the movie I had randomly chosen.

When they fell asleep halfway through, I got up and added more lines. I had lost track of how many new cuts there were on my hip, I only knew that I didn't think it was going to stop soon. These cuts were deeper than the last, however, and I was careful to avoid the table as it would have been far more painful this time.

I curled up on the couch in between Dean and Sam and started the movie again. I guess I fell asleep because I woke up with my head resting on Dean's shoulder. I must have made a noise, as he glanced over to find me wiping the sleep out of my eyes.

"Good afternoon, Sleeping Beauty." Dean winked at me.

"It's afternoon already?" I asked him. It didn't feel like I had been sleeping that long.

"Yep." I couldn't see what he was doing on the laptop, but he seemed pretty engrossed in whatever it was.

"Where's Sam at?" I asked him once I had noticed Sam was nowhere to be found.

"He's...hunting." I noticed the pause, and instantly knew Dean was lying to me. But, I decided to play along for now.

"I didn't know you guys were hunters." I commented, keeping a close eye on Dean to see if he would show anymore signs of lying. "So what's in season?" I added when Dean didn't reply.

"No idea. I'm not into killing animals." He said very distractedly.

"So it's just Sam that likes to hunt?" Dean finally looked up from the laptop.

"Why are you so curious?" Dean looked at me suspiciously.

"I dunno. I'm bored, and a teenager." I shrugged. "How long until he gets back?"

"Depends on how long it takes to fine the V-whatever he's hunting." Dean realized he almost gave something away and returned to the laptop.

"What is Sam finding?" I questioned, purposely alerting him to the fact that I had caught his mistake.

"Whatever he's hunting. Like I said, I don't hunt animals, so I don't know what's in season." Dean was trying to cover his ass and doing a poor job of it.

"You were about to say something else." I replied as I gave him the I'm-not-falling-for-the-bullshit-you're-trying-to-feed-me look. "Something starting with a V." I added after a few moments of silence.

Dean glared back at me with a look that clearly said "you will drop it if you know what's good for you". That's when the pieces fell together and I realized what he was about to say. I didn't think anyone but my dad and a couple of his buddies had devoted their life to that.

"Vampires? Is that what Sam's hunting?" I asked cautiously, desperately hoping I didn't just make myself look like a fool. Dean was so shocked that he dropped the laptop.

"How the hell do you know about that?!?" He was more than a little surprised.

"My dad was a hunter." I replied calmly.

"I know that, but you made it sound like you didn't know what he did while he was gone!"

"Well, think about it, when you start talking to someone you don't know, do you tell them that vampires, demons, werewolves, etc. all exist and you hunt them for a living?" I said matter-of-factly while rolling my eyes and picking up the laptop.

Dean had apparently been doing research, but with little success, as there were multiple windows open, all on different monsters and legends. "So whatcha hunting?" I asked him. Even though I hated having to move from place to place, I missed hunting.

"That is classified information." Dean replied.

"Ohhhhh, so you don't know. Lemme grab out my dad's journal and see if there's anything in there that can help." I grabbed the purple leather bound book I had bought my dad as a birthday present from my suitcase and plopped back down on the couch. "So what do we have so far?" I asked as I started flipping through the journal.

"We don't have anything. You aren't on this case." He replied very protectively.

"Come on, I wanna help! You can't seriously expect me to sit in here doing nothing while you and Sam risk your necks?!?!?" I had already made up my mind that I was going to help them, besides it beats doing nothing while stuck in this motel room.

"Yes I do! You are staying here, unless you know how to beat an unknown that hunts hunters!" Dean quickly looked away when he realized what he said."Forget what I just said, you are staying here and that's final."

I was so mad at him. It felt like I was living with my dad again, but this time I didn't have either of my brothers to calm me down. I stormed out of the door and started running. I didn't care where I was going, as long as it was as far away from that accursed motel as possible. I heard Dean calling after me, but I ignored him and took as many turns as possible, going down every alley the impala couldn't fit through.

When I had finally calmed down, I had no idea where I was, but Dean had blown up my phone. I had no idea how in the hell Dean got my number, but I knew it was him from all the voicemails. I debated calling him back, but I wasn't ready to go back to the stupid motel just yet. As it got darker, my resolve started to crumble. I was in a city I didn't know, at night, and definitely in the wrong neighborhood. I finally called Dean, but it went straight to voicemail.

I yelled at him for not picking up, but my words quickly turned to screaming when someone (or something) pulled a bag over my head and stuffed me in the the trunk of their car. They forgot to take my phone or tie me up, so I tried calling Dean again. This time my message was frantic babble about what had just happened and where I had been when it went down. I probably had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time, but part of me couldn't stop thinking it was that thing that Dean was talking about. The car finally stopped, and I was dragged out of the trunk into some sort of shelter. I stuffed my phone into my bra before my kidnapper could see it. They pulled off the bag, and I was blinded by a bright light. I hoped that Dean had gotten my messages, or I was screwed.


	3. Chapter 3

Dean's Point Of View

I had been driving for hours, and there was still no sign of Ruby. I had called her about a million times, but there was never any answer and my now my phone was dead. I turned around and started heading back to the motel. If I hadn't found her yet, I wasn't going to find her by spending the rest of the night driving around town. I also needed to charge my phone in case Ruby decided to call. I drove back, too worried for any music. Finally I got back to the motel, and rushed to plug my phone in. Once it would turn on, I saw I had 2 missed calls from Ruby.

"Goddammit Dean! You call me over and over, but when I finally call you, you can't pick up the fucking pho-" The rest of the first message was screaming. I was even more worried, but I played the second message.

"Hiya Dean-o, it's Ruby." Her voice was shaking, and around an octave higher than normal. "I was over by the 7-11 down on O, but -uh- someone kinda put a bag over my head and stuffed me in a trunk. I have no idea where we are going, but we've gone pretty much straight south for about 10 miles, don't know how much longer it'll be. I guess this is what you were trying to prevent, huh? Oh shit, we stopped. Bye!"

I called Sammy and explained what happened.

"I don't blame her for walking out, but just wandering around like she seems to have done was a pretty stupid move. Hang on, I'll be there in a few minutes and we can go get her together." He told me.

"C'mon Sammy, you're at least a half an hour out, and I don't know if I can wait that long. She's been wherever she is with whoever kidnapped her for at least 45 minutes." I replied as I grabbed my keys and walked toward the impala.

"Dean I swear if you leave without me, I will murder you." He barked at me, but I had already figured out where Ruby should be and started driving.

"Sorry Sammy." I said, and hung up.

Back at the motel, before I called Sam, I had grabbed a bunch of maps for this area. Of course, it was just my luck that Ruby was taken to an abandoned farm. It's always an abandoned something or other.

I stopped the car about a half mile away from the farm. I wasn't about to drive up and get taken down before I could grab out my guns.

When I got back in the driver's seat I blasted some AC/DC, both to drown out my thoughts and let the bastard who took Ruby know I'm here. Well, I blared the music until I pulled up and heard her screams.

I ran inside with my shotgun out and my duffle bag slung over my shoulder. The rundown farm house was a complete maze, but I followed the sound of Ruby's screams. When I finally reached her, she was curled up in a ball on the floor, whimpering quietly. I ran over, after doing a quick lookover of the room to make sure her kidnapper wasn't here.

I tossed my gun to the side and quickly scanned Ruby to make sure there weren't any fatal wounds. Strangely, there was no wounds at all. Not even a trace of blood on her or the floor.

Then, I heard a scuffling noise. I whipped around to find a shadow creeping closer. I snatched up my gun and emptied an entire clip into where it's heart should be, but it kept coming. Finally, I was out of ammo, and whatever the thing was was close enough to touch me. I saw a hand covered in blue tattoos creep towards me, and I realized it was a djinn that kidnapped Ruby.

"Back off, bastard!" Is the last thing I remember saying before I fell into the world of hallucinations.

I saw all of my worst fears come true, and relived every horrible, scarring moment of my life. It felt like several eternities had passed before they stopped. I wasn't complaining, but those hallucinations don't just stop. You have to kill the djinn, and I was pretty sure no one knew where we were. A familiar hand pulled me off the ground, and I recognized Sam.

"How did you know where to find us?" I was really curious, I wanted to know how he kept following me everywhere.

He just winked and said, "Technology is great, isn't it?" It annoys the hell out of me when he wont give me a straight answer.

A soft moan brought our attention back to Ruby. She was still curled up in a ball, and it looked like she didn't realize the hallucinations were over. I walked slowly up to her, and tried to get her to sit up.

When she didn't respond, I picked her up and carried her to the Impala. Sammy made sure all evidence of our presence was gone from the house while I made sure Ruby was secure in the backseat.

"You should have waited." Sam said angrily as soon as both of us were in the car.

"I didn't have the time!" I replied, refusing to look at him.

"Yeah, cause almost getting yourself killed saves so much time." Sammy always starts the sarcasm at the wrong time. Why can't he be sarcastic when it's funny?

"I don't need your sass." I said.

"And I don't need you getting yourself killed!"

I rolled my eyes. "I know what I'm doing Sammy." We spent the rest of the drive in silence.


	4. Chapter 4

Ruby's point of view

Gunshot. Cas bleeding out in my arms.

Clatter as a knife leaves a dead man's fingers and hits the floor. Dad lying in a pool of his blood, dead.

Shipped off to moms. No love, just fear.

Creak of a rope. Gabe hanging from the ceiling, dead.

Screams. Meg finding her baby hanging and blaming me.

Taken for ransom in Mexico. Kidnapped and tortured in Belarus.  
Someone grabs my shoulder, but I'm too weak to resist what's sure to be another kidnapping. Arms gently raised me off of the ground. I waited for another locked closet or beating, but none came.

I realized I couldn't move. I couldn't even open my eyes. I was completely paralyzed by fear. Then, I realized what I had just seen were nightmares, my worst memories come to life, and I was forced to relive them.

I tried to sit up, but my torso was too heavy. I tried to scream, but my mouth and throat may as well have been glued shut. I was stuck wherever I was until the fear that was coursing through my veins faded away.

After a few minutes, I can hear again. Two guys are talking, and there voices seemed very familiar. That's when it all came back to me. Dean showing up at my hotel room, burnt eggs, storming throughout town.

I whimpered as I remembered the abandoned farmhouse, and what happened while I was kept inside.

Someone, Dean I think, sits on the edge of the bed I'm laying on and feels my forehead. "No fever." He tells Sammy.

"Then why hasn't she woken up yet? I don't get it Dean, she should be conscious by now."

"I'm just as lost as you are." Dean sighs. I wanted to talk to them, tell them I'm okay, but my throat refused to open.

Finally, after many failed attempts and what felt like hours, I managed to open my eyes. I was back in the motel room, and it was cleaner than when I left.

Dean looked over and saw my eyes were open. He rushed back over to the bed and started asking a million questions at once, without waiting for a response. Of course, I couldn't answer, so I struggled to wiggle my fingers instead.

After a while, Dean finally realized I hadn't been responding to his questions. "What's the matter?" His face was lined with concern. I opened my mouth, but still no sound came out, and I saw my panic reflected in Dean's eyes.

"I'm fine." I managed to croak after a minute or so. It was too painful to say much more than that. Relief swept both brothers' faces.

"Thank God!" Sam exclaimed while Dean paced. I didn't say anything, so Sam and I watched Dean pace for several more long minutes.

"What the hell were you thinking?!? You could have gotten yourself killed, not to mention me and Sam!" Dean yelled after he finished pacing. It was like I was living with Dad all over again.

I ignored the pain, and replied, "I'm sorry, I didn't realize I'm some damsel in distress that needs rescued by a knight in not so shining armor! In case you haven't noticed, I do pretty well on my own as I've had to for the last four years. And I'm painfully aware you almost died. Everyone I've ever cared about seems to die, so yes, I've started to neglect my own safety, as it doesn't matter if I die or not! It's not like there's anyone left to miss me anyways." And there it was. I was pretty confident Sam and Dean didn't know I was suicidal, but now they knew I didn't care whether I died or lived. Oh well.

Dean's face softened, and he sat next to me and put his arms around me. "Why do you think I risked my life to come after you?" He asked. I couldn't look him or Sam in the eyes.

"Because you do that sort of stuff every day?" I mentally slapped myself for sounding so needy and pathetic.

"We care about you. If you died, I would definitely miss you." Dean told me.

"I would miss you too. So you have at least two people that care about your safety." Sam added. I tensed when he mentioned family.

"I'm not sure if you noticed, but my two brothers and dad are dead. I don't have any family left." I growled through clenched teeth.

Confusion swept Sam's face, and he asked, "What about your mom?" I laughed at that.

"Oh she never cared about me. The moment she got me after dad kill-died, she told me that Gabe was much better than me, and that I wasn't worth the waisted air I needed to breathe. When Gabe...died...my mom could barely look at me. She told me it was all my fault, and I should be the one hanging from the ceiling instead of her little baby boy. So no, she wouldn't miss me." When I finished, tears were rolling down my cheeks. The boys didn't seem to know what to say.

I got up to go add some lines when Sam's voice stopped me. "Leave the knife." I turned around a little too quickly.

"What knife?" I asked, feigning innocence.

"The one in your pocket that you were planning on using to cut yourself." He replied, with a forced smile and cocked head.

"I don't know what you're talking about." I countered, mimicking his moves.

"Then you don't mind if I check your pockets?" Sam said, but he barely got the words out before bam! another flashback hits me.

I'm 12, in Mexico. The memory of my brother hanging from a rope is fresh in my mind. I wander the streets, completely lost with no one around to point me back to my hotel.

Suddenly the light is blocked by a huge figure. It's a man, but the sun is in just the right spot, making it impossible to see what he looks like.

"Can I help you little girl?" He says, a bit too creepily for comfort.

"I'm fine, and 16 is hardly little." I tell him, lying through my teeth.

He shakes his head and replies, "Little enough for me to overpower you." A cloth covers my face and I feel myself falling as I black out.

"Ruby! Come on Ruby, wake up!"

My eyes fluttered open and I heard a sigh of relief come from my right. I tried to sit up, but the world decided to throw an earthquake party, and I was forced to lay back down. Sam started rambling about how he moved me even though you're not supposed to, but I cut him off by grabbing his hand (btw this is not in any way anything other than platonic she's 16 and he's way older that's nasty).

"Thanks. It's okay, I'm fine, it was just a flashback." I said. Sam instantly looked guilty.

"I didn't mean to start a flashback." He pouted a little. I don't know why, but the idea of a Sasquatch apologizing for saying something neither of us knew was a trigger made me laugh. He looked hurt, as if I didn't believe him.

I wiped the tears of laughter from my eyes and said, "I'm not sure why I'm laughing, but I definitely believe you." I promptly shoved what I had seen back into the locked prison where I keep all my dangerous memories.

"So what happenes now?" I asked, truly curious as to where they would drop me off so my 'mom' could ship me somewhere else. Sam shifted awkwardly.

"Well actually," he paused for a second to run a hand through his hair. "Dean and I were wondering if you wanted to continue hunting with us. I -we- completely understand if you'd rather go back to your fancy vacations and-" I cut him off with a hug.

I was too happy to express my gratefulness in words. I would finally get away from Meg and all of her bullcrap. I would save people and hunt things again. I would travel around with Sam and Dean, the only people I've cared about since Gabe died. Life would be good. Of course, that is, if I could get my flashbacks back under control. I was not going to put Sam and Dean in danger because I couldn't control my memories.

Sam seemed to understand my lack of words, and returned the hug. Dean walked in with food and, once he realized what was going on, asked me, "So you wanna come with?"

I took a moment before I replied, "Yeah but I gotta take care of my flashbacks before I start hunting again."

Sam did a double take. "Again? I thought you stayed in the motel?"

"Well, most hunts Dad made me stay in the motel doing research, but occasionally he let me come with. Those were my favorite hunts. They made me feel needed, useful even. I was helping save people. Otherwise I sat there for hours doing nothing, waiting for them to get back." The uselessness I used to feel came back to me, and I had to sit down and take a moment to regain control of my emotions.

Dean, as always, seemed to know what to say. "Sorry Sammy, looks like you're still the geeky researcher."


	5. Chapter 5

Dean's point of view

Months had passed since Ruby had started hunting with us, but I was still worried she would ditch us for the fancy vacation life. She seemed to be enjoying herself. Her hand to hand combat skills were at a completely different level than Sam or I. The first and only time we did hand to hand combat training, she took down both of us before I could say go. She wasn't bad at firing guns, just rusty. After about of a week of training she had, once again, become better than Sammy or I.

Ruby was happier than we had ever seen her, at least most of the time. Occasionally, when she thought we weren't looking, something entirely different came over her. We weren't able to figure it out until it was too late.

One day, after a long and tiring hunt, Ruby asked to stay at the motel instead of grabbing dinner with us. She looked exhausted, and fell asleep before we could reply. Sammy and I left as quietly as we could, Ruby was a light sleeper.

The booth felt empty without Ruby there. "You wanna head back?" Sammy asked me as soon as I finished my food. I nodded, and we rode back to the motel in silence.

As soon as I stepped out of Baby I knew something was wrong. "Sam, grab the guns." I grabbed my pistol and opened the door. I had barely taken a step into the room when I heard a cry of pain followed by sobbing coming from the bathroom, and it sounded like Ruby. I ran over and tried to open the door, but it was locked from the inside.

"Ruby! Ruby open the door!" I yelled, but her sobbing only got louder. I didn't know what she was doing, but whatever it was, there wasn't enough space for another person, and it definitely wasn't good. I took a few steps back and tried to ram the door open with my body. It didn't work the first time, but I kept going until the door finally opened.

"No! Nononono" I fell to my knees when I opened the door and saw Ruby on the floor, with deep cuts on both wrists. She wasn't dead yet, but I could see the life draining out of her, not to mention the growing pool of blood.

"Dean." Ruby croaked, her voice barely a whisper. I scooped her up, and held her tightly, as if that could save her.  
"Dean." She repeated.

"Yes buttercup?" I asked, using her favorite nickname I gave her.

"You weren't supposed to come home yet." Ruby sighed. "I didn't want-" she stopped to suck in a breath. "I didn't want you to see me like this."

I brushed some hair out of her face. "Why Ruby? Why do this to yourself?"

"I love you. Tell Sam I love him too. Don't forget me Dean. Promise?" Ruby sounded so fragile.

"I could never forget you." I whispered back, unconsciously holding her tighter. "I love you too buttercup."

Ruby finally smiled. She opened her mouth to say something else, but she stopped moving before anything came out.

"No! No you can't die on me! Not like this!" A few tears fell down my cheek as I checked for a pulse. I broke down completely as I waited one, two, three minutes and felt nothing. She looked so peaceful, but I just wanted her back.

I didn't realize Sam was in the doorway until he put his hand on my shoulder. "There's a note. I think you should read it." His voice was heavy, as if a huge amount of guilt had been placed on his shoulders, which it probably had. I carefully unfolded the letter and started reading

 

Dear Dean and Sam,  
Thank you for giving me some of the happiest months of my life. I've enjoyed every moment with you two, if only because I finally had a family again. I don't regret any of the time I've spent with you guys. I'm sorry to end our time like this. I had hoped things would get better, but it was just too painful to keep going. I didn't deserve all of the love and patience you gave me. I love you two, and I will miss these wonderful times when I'm gone. Please don't blame yourselves, this was something I had to overcome on my own, and I am the only one to blame for my failure. These last few months have been the best I've ever known. I felt loved, wanted, and even needed for the first time since my parents got a divorce. Thank you for everything. I love you both so much.

Ruby

P.S. Dean- don't you even think about blaming yourself. Sam- don't blame yourself either okay? Just because you found the journal doesn't mean you could have prevented this. Also, don't tell my mom I killed myself. Make up whatever you want, but she can't handle the truth, and at least one of my blood should see their 60's. Please cremate me, if you want a service it has to be small.

 

After I finished, I couldn't move. If only I had just stayed here with her. I hadn't even noticed anything was wrong. Sammy and I had gotten her to stop cutting, and I thought we had given her a sense of self worth. I failed her.


	6. Chapter 6

Sam's point of view

"Dean." I put my hand on his shoulder. He looked up at me, and I could tell he was already blaming himself.

"I should have known, Sammy. I should have made sure she was okay. I should have-"

I interrupted him. "Dean it's not your fault. There is nothing you could have done. There was no way you could have known, she's been hiding her feelings from everyone for years. If you had tried to force her to talk about things she didn't want to, you would have done way more damage than good. We didn't know anything she didn't want us to. With her past, trying to force anything from her would have caused her flashbacks to come back, which would have put her in more danger than leaving her alone. It's not your fault."

It wasn't his fault. It was mine. I found her journal a few weeks after we started hunting together. At first I didn't know what it was. Ruby had fallen asleep on the couch, with her journal open. It looked like her dads journal, which she had told me to read.

The first sentence talked about wanting to kill herself. I was concerned, so I kept reading. I learned so many concerning things, but I figured she would be fine as long as I kept an eye on her. I didn't tell Dean knowing he would confront Ruby, and that would only make things ten times worse. I made sure she never had an opportunity to kill herself. I never left her by herself until today.

When Dean and I left, she looked like she would collapse from exhaustion just trying to get to the bathroom. I didn't have time to say goodbye, let alone come up with an excuse to stay at the motel, before she fell asleep and Dean walked out the door. I didn't want to leave, but I figured we would be back before she woke up.

I should have stayed. I should have been there to stop her. Instead I was eating a pile of grease while she was bleeding out. It was my fault. I could have saved her.

"What are we going to do Sammy?" Dean's voice brought me back.

"I don't know." I replied, voice heavy with grief. Dean got up, and I heard water running. When he came back there was a pile of rags in his hands.

"What are you doing?" I asked. He didn't respond, just knelt next to Ruby and started wiping the blood off of her body.

I understood what he was trying to do. I grabbed all the towels and rags I could find before kneeling next to him and mopping up the red pool surrounding her.

I don't know how much time passed before we finished, but Ruby looked much more peaceful. I bent over and gently pulled the knife from her cold fingers, then Dean scooped her up and layed her gently on the bed. It was so quiet without Ruby to make jokes or lighten the mood. I hadn't realized just how much she meant to me until she was gone.

I looked over to find Dean sitting on his bed, with Ruby's note clenched in his hand. He obviously still blamed himself. "Dean." I was trying to get him to look at something besides that paper, but he didn't move.

"Yeah?"

"I'm gonna call her mom. What should I tell her." I didn't actually want to talk to Meg, but she needed to know.

"I don't know Sammy. What are we supposed to say? 'Hello Ruby's mom, your daughter killed herself, but she doesn't want you to know so here's some bullshit story. Oh, and there's not gonna be a service.'?"

"Does it bother you that Meg isn't going to know the real cause of her daughter's death, Dean?"

"Yeah, it kinda does. She deserves to know how her daughter died!"

"From what Ruby said, it sounds like if Meg knows her daughter committed suicide, she will too. It bothers me as well, but I'd rather have to lie about how Ruby died than have Meg kill herself." If that didn't ease his conscience, I don't know what would have. And even if it still bothered him, I wasn't going to take that chance. Dean didn't say anything so I dialed her number.

"Hello?"

"Hi Meg, this is-"

"I know who you are. What do you want?"

I took a deep breath and replied, "Its about your daughter."

"You don't want her anymore? I know I would have tried to give custody back, but I'm not taking her." I had forgotten just how much she hated Ruby.

"No we don't want to give custody back. She's dead."

"So?" I had expected tears, anger, even the sound of something being thrown, but I never imagined this.

"What do you mean 'so'?"

"Well, why did you bother me with useless information? I specifically told you not to call unless you had something important to tell me."

It was amazing how much I wanted to throttle her. "You're telling me you don't care that your daughter died?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying" I hung up. Continuing the conversation wouldn't do anything but make me want to kill her. Dean looked up.

"She doesn't care! She asked me why I bothered her! She actually got mad that I 'wasted her time with useless information'! I can't believe her!" I wouldn't have been surprised if there had been smoke coming out of my ears.

"Are you serious? She honest to god doesn't care that her daughter is dead?!?" Dean was, if possible, angrier than I was. I shook my head. He stormed out of the motel, and I chased after him.

As he got into the Impala, I shouted, "What are you doing?"

"Saving people, hunting things, the family business." He yelled, then got in the car and drove away.


End file.
